Changing Stripes is Hard to Do
by Gwenneth
Summary: AU. What if there was more interaction after Richard spared the D'Haran captain in Deception. What if the captain had to help save Richard's life after Garrick's brother seeks revenge?
1. Chapter 1

Changing Stripes Is Hard to Do  
>By Gwenneth<p>

Disclaimer: NOT MINE. Not making money. There you go.

Summary: AU. What could have happened if the D'Haran captain in Deception wasn't so hot to try and fight Richard? And what if Garrick's brother wanted a little payback for his death? This is part tv show canon from the episode, and then a major departure. Not sure how many chapters it will be.

* * *

><p>Richard stood before Kahlan, his heart and mind divided.<p>

She had just infiltrated the D'Haran post where he had been masquerading as Carver Dunn, and told him that the freedom fighters were about to attack the village of Grayson – where Captain Ensor's family lived. Richard could see the woman and her children in his mind's eye and he could feel his heart and mind waging war.

On one hand, he knew he couldn't just waltz up to the Captain and tell him what he knew, it would break his cover and he wouldn't be able to escape. No, he was going to have to do something about this himself. The element of surprise would afford him and Kahlan enough time to get away.

He wasn't going to let any more innocent people die if he could do something to stop it.

"Go," he whispered to Kahlan, his own muscles already gearing for the sprint to the nearby horse and spring into the saddle, which he wasted no time accomplishing as Kahlan beelined for the next nearest animal.

She flung the cloak from her shoulders and drew the Sword of Truth from the scabbard at her hip. As it glinting in the sun and glided through the air, he could almost _feel_ its power. When it hit the palm of his hand and glowed as the magic within it and the magic in him combined, he let his gaze shift to Captain Ensor.

The man's eyes held the deepest level of betrayal Richard had ever seen.

For a moment, they stared at each other.

That moment was broken soon after when the sergeant shouted, "He's the Seeker!" and Ensor seemed to snap out of his daze of hurt and shock and ordered the gates closed. Richard touched his heels sharply to the horse's flanks and he and Kahlan made their escape – Ensor's expression burned into Richard's mind as they rode swiftly away.

* * *

><p><em>In the D'Haran post…<em>

"Sir?"

Captain Ensor blinked, his eyes having been riveted to the gates a man he had thought a friend had just ridden through. He had wanted so badly to believe Carver earlier, which is why he hadn't immediately killed him. And when that woman had come, claiming to be his wife and then _appearing _to be for all intents and purposes, he had let out a sigh of relief.

After all, the man had made his young son smile for the first time in months and his wife had instantly taken to the young soldier who she thought was protecting her husband while he was away. But all his hopes for a friend and confidant and another set of eyes to watch out for his family were squashed seconds ago when the man's real identity was revealed.

He turned to the sergeant. "Gather the men, we're going after them. I have a bone to pick with the _Seeker_."

His orders were quickly relayed and in only minutes the garrison was emptying out and Ensor was leading his troops to battle. And as he rode, the captain wondered if it would be hard to kill the Seeker after he had gotten to know and respect him as Carver Dunn.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile…<p>

Richard couldn't believe what was happening. He had just spent considerably more time masquerading as a D'Haran than he had ever imagined he would and now he was fighting against a man who was on _his side_. Or at least what the man thought was his side, since Richard wasn't about to let the man kill innocent women and children no matter how many innocents had died at their relatives' hands.

As he locked swords with Garrick, he realized something. While many in the Midlands might support his mission and claim to be helping him in it, in reality some of them were doing this purely for revenge. Like Garrick and his followers. Kahlan had told him that was why they were attacking Grayson.

Richard understood revenge. When he had seen his father bleeding to death and then held him as he finally succumbed to his injury, the young man had felt a rage like no other and when he had picked up the Sword of Truth it had multiplied tenfold. He could have killed dozens of D'Harans, and possibly even innocents, in that rage. So he knew how Garrick and the men felt.

He was about to try to reason with the man again when the sound of horses thundered into the clearing, atop them sitting red-clad D'Haran soldiers. In the lead was a torn-looking Captain Ensor, whose eyes met Richard's and took in the odd display of Seeker and Confessor battling against their own forces.

But that wasn't enough to stop him and he immediately drew his sword and ordered his men to take them all out. And standing at the edge of the battle, as D'Haran commanders were wont to do, he watched as his former _friend_ cut down his soldiers like they were nothing but stationary saplings.

The _ease_ with which he struck the men down, one by one, was astounding and not for the first time, Captain Ensor wondered what it would have been like to have a man like Carver – no, _Richard_ – fighting with him. And for the _first_ time – he wondered why _he_ fought for Darken Rahl. Was the man really the more powerful of the two? Would the Seeker defeat Rahl and then slaughter all the men who fought under him? He had just been fighting his own men, was he that ruthless?

His inattention was broken and his eyes quickly drawn when one of the rebels lifted a Whisperer into the air and shouted for them all to stop fighting as the weapon slowly revolved in his hands. "If you don't leave, all of you, I'm going to set this off and then we'll all die!" the man shouted, a vengeful glitter in his dark eyes. "And we're close enough to the village that all those people there will die too!"

Ensor's heart leapt into his throat as he realized the man was right. The village was within sight distance, definitely less than a league away from them. If that Whisperer went off it would wipe out every man, woman and child in the place. The captain looked then at the sharp set to the Seeker's shoulders and wondered what he was thinking. If he was going to _do_ something or just let his family, who he had appeared to like, die like acceptable losses.

"How do we know that once we're gone you won't just kill them all anyway?" the Seeker finally said, surprising Ensor with the anger in his voice – anger for a Loyalist village's occupants.

The rebel smiled then, a smile that was full of malice and was oddly enough directed at the Seeker. "That's just a chance you'll have to take, isn't it?" He said, gripping the Whisperer tighter. It looked like the man had no intentions of keeping his promise to let the villagers live. And he was prepared to die to see this through.

Ensor gripped his sword, looking for a way to signal an archer or to act himself.

But he was quickly relieved of the task when the Seeker exchanged a look with the woman who'd come to the garrison for him – the Confessor. And seconds later the witch was flinging a dagger into the heart of the man holding the Whisperer.

But it must have been slightly off mark since he didn't just drop to the ground like a stone. He stumbled and looked at the Seeker in shock, but his face quickly melded into a look of resolve mixed with pain. And he drew his arm back and threw the Whisperer toward Grayson with as much strength as he could muster.

Ensor involuntarily took a step forward as it somersaulted through the air into the grass up the hill from them. The sergeant yelled for everyone to run for their lives, and all the D'Harans and all the rebels save one, did so, leaving Ensor, the Seeker and the Confessor in the field.

With dread, the captain began to run up the hill, noticing that the Seeker had done the same thing. Odd. He was risking his life staying here. Why hadn't he run?

When the man flung himself to the ground and harshly twisted the Whisperer he had discovered to a halt, Ensor had his answer. He had stayed to stop the weapon and save the village. A Loyalist village. A place where he would have been captured and shipped to Darken Rahl if he had turned up there as himself.

Ensor couldn't help but wonder - who was this man; because he wasn't like anyone that Ensor had ever met before. He decided he was going to find out what had happened here before jumping to conclusions. So he hauled the Seeker to his feet and then stepped back a step as the man regained his footing and held the Sword of Truth down at his side.

"You betrayed me!" He said quietly. It wasn't what he had meant to say, but it had come out. He plunged on before the man could respond to that accusation. "But you were fighting the rebels. Why?"

The look on the Seeker's face was so _innocent_. It irked Ensor. This man had killed countless D'Haran soldiers and yet he, a D'Haran captain who had just _lost_ soldiers at this man's sword, was thinking to himself that the man looked so young and pure.

It was an odd feeling.

The Seeker spoke and his friend Carver's voice came out of the traitor's mouth. "They were going to attack Grayson," he said earnestly.

Ensor snorted. "What do you care about a Loyalist settlement," he said, his eyes narrowed. Maybe the Seeker had plans for the women and children of Grayson. Maybe he wanted to use them somehow. This man was his enemy after all.

Wasn't he?

The Seeker's eyes widened almost comically at Ensor's words, which again surprised the captain. Richard looked at him like he was some sort of oddity for suggesting the Seeker would let a village be decimated because of its loyalties. "My mission is to defeat Darken Rahl, not kill innocent women and children," he said incredulously. "I don't go around punishing the masses like Rahl does. He employed those Whisperers on whole villages just because they gave me food and shelter for a night. He's an evil tyrant and _he _is my target. Not D'Harans in general."

He looked at the sword in Ensor's scabbard, which the captain was holding rather tightly as he appeared to contemplate the Seeker's words. Wearily, the man looked up finally and met Richard's eyes. "Thank you for saving my family," he said. "But I must do my duty."

Ensor drew his sword with a metallic _zing_. He knew he stood next to no chance against the Sword of Truth and the Seeker, but he had to fight. He was a D'Haran commander and he had pledged his allegiance to Darken Rahl. And he knew what happened to those who betrayed Rahl. He wouldn't let his family pay the consequences.

Richard shook his head, but did raise his own sword. "I don't want to fight you," he said with as weary a voice as Ensor's. As if he was as tired of the fighting as the D'Haran before him. And maybe he was. It was a lot of pressure being the Seeker, the captain imagined.

As they clashed blades, Ensor was aware of the Confessor's approach and waited for the pain of her dagger in his back. But to his surprise, Richard stopped her with a quick "I've got this" and continued to fight on his own. Not that he would have _needed_ the help, since he was making short work of Ensor's defenses and in moments the older man's blade was on the ground and the Seeker's sword was at his throat.

Ensor sighed. "Do your duty, Seeker."

As the sword trembled at his throat, and the anger which fueled the Seeker's swordfighting began to fade, Ensor said silent goodbyes to his family just over the rise. He had fought a good fight. He had done his duty and faced the Seeker, his Lord's enemy. And now he would face his fate with dignity and honor. He could only hope the Seeker wouldn't hurt his family or his village.

But instead of the cold steel of the Seeker's blade in his body, the sword wavered again and Richard spoke. "Go home to your family," he said, pulling the sword away now. Ensor looked up, his heart thudding painfully in his chest, to see a look of compassion in the Seeker's eyes now. Compassion for _him_. An enemy who would have killed him a moment ago.

"_Who are you?_" Ensor whispered, slumping on his knees in the grass at the Seeker's feet. "You confuse me. You infiltrated my garrison, you befriended my son and my wife, and then you turn out to be the Seeker – D'Hara's greatest enemy. And now, you fight rebels and save D'Harans and spare my life. Who are you? You are not like any man I've ever met."

The Confessor answered him, to the captain's surprise. "He is the Seeker of Truth, captain, not the harbinger of death to all D'Harans. He seeks to defeat Rahl and free _everyone_ from his tyranny, innocent D'Harans too, if need be," she said, coming to stand at the Seeker's elbow.

Ensor looked between the two for a long moment. He didn't really know what to do from here. Should he just get up and go back to his family. Should he let the D'Harans believe he was dead, move his family to another village and start over? Should he try to subdue the Seeker again, for Lord Rahl? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an arrow twanging off a bowstring.

The captain felt compelled to call out a warning, "Behind you!"

Unfortunately, the Seeker wasn't quite fast enough and when he spun to face the threat, the arrow from the rebel's crossbow slammed into his left side, parting the chainmail links like butter and imbedding firmly in the young man's flesh.

He grunted, but didn't fall immediately. The Confessor, shaking with rage, wasted no time ending the rebel's life with her remaining dagger, this time the weapon finding her target's heart with ease.

She turned back to the Seeker as he dropped the Sword of Truth and grasped the arrow shaft sticking out of his side. It was stuck fast. Ensor was still shocked by the turn of events and said and did nothing as the Seeker started to slip to the ground.

"_Richard_!"

The Confessor grabbed him and lowered him gently until the Seeker was seated on the ground, the sword at his side but not in his grasp. The young man was breathing shakily and staring in confusion at the wound. "Kahlan, he just …"

She nodded. "Don't talk, Richard," she said, leaning down to examine the shaft and lightly tug at the armor surrounding the wood. Both were oblivious to the D'Haran captain at their side, which Ensor was grateful for at the moment.

He cringed at the pained expression on the Seeker's face. Arrow wounds were tricky business. Depending on how deep the arrow had penetrated, he could have injured organs in his midsection. That would spell certain death.

The D'Haran captain, seeing the care and concern between the Confessor and the Seeker, having just been spared by the Seeker and having his family's lives owed to the man, made his decision finally. "You can't stay out in the open here," he said. "Let me take you to my home. You can treat him there."

He stood, feeling out of place looking _down_ on the man who had beaten him so handily moments ago and a legendary Confessor. But he wiped the uncertainty from his face and reached down to help the woman to her feet.

"My name is Arlo Ensor," he said as she hesitated. "I owe the Seeker a debt, he spared my life and saved my family. Let me do this."

She looked into his eyes and he felt oddly exposed. The magic of Confessors was the stuff of stories. She must have been reading him for the truth in his words. When she accepted his hand, he knew he had made the right decision. These were good people.

Richard looked up, his face scrunched in growing agony. "You'll put your family in jeopardy," he whispered. "If the others come looking for you, that's the first place they'll go." Ensor looked hard at the Seeker. In pain and worrying for others.

"Let me deal with the D'Harans," he said "I know what they'll do, since I'm the one who wrote the regs for this garrison." He bent and pulled the Seeker's arm over his shoulder – the one not gripping the arrow shaft tightly. "Up you get."

With ease he lifted the Seeker to his feet. The young man was strong, there was no doubt of that, but he was not bulk. He was swift and agile and a lot lighter than Arlo had thought he would be. He was also bleeding rather heftily, if the wet tunic under his mail was anything to go by.

The Confessor took up the Seeker's other side and together they were able to guide him toward Grayson and into the village. There was no one on the streets. They must be hiding from the battle they had heard. The village was no stranger to attack and knew when to hide in their homes.

It wasn't long before they reached the Ensor home.

When he pushed the door open, Ensor's wife Saysha peeked her head from around the bend in the hallway, a fire poker in her trembling hand. When she saw it was her husband, she dropped the poker and ran forward, only to stop short at the sight of the injured man leaning heavily on Arlo's side.

"Carver!" She exclaimed, drawing the young man's gaze. He managed a weak smile and nod, but said nothing. Saysha turned her gaze next to the strikingly beautiful woman at the soldier's other side. "Oh my, bring him in back, I'll get some supplies."

Arlo and Kahlan did as she instructed and were soon lowering the young man onto the bed in the back room. A few youthful faces watched their progress from the staircase banister, one in particular shocked and pained by the young soldier's condition.

Saysha rushed in then carrying a bundle of bandages and ointments. Behind her was the eldest daughter carrying a basin of water, trying in vain not to drop any of it in her haste. The captain, meanwhile, was setting about helping Richard out of the D'Haran chainmail and tunics. He used a blade to cut away the fabric around the arrow shaft, the Seeker cringing when the projectile was jostled in the process.

Blood was everywhere, but miraculously Richard wasn't unconscious or, worse, dead. Kahlan leaned in when the clothing and armor were out of the way. She glanced to Richard's sweaty face and he nodded minutely. This was something they had done before, only it had been him ripping the arrow from her leg. And the wound hadn't been as serious.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and thanked the Spirits that the mail had slowed the arrow so she didn't have to push it through first. But this was still going to hurt. The captain and his family stood back as Kahlan took hold of the arrow. The Seeker found handholds on the bedframe and gripped them tightly. They really did look like they knew what they were doing.

As Kahlan tugged, Richard jerked hard but let no sound escape somehow. Inwardly, he knew it was because he didn't want to scare the captain's son, who didn't react well to loud sounds. Protecting the innocent was strong motivation for the Seeker.

When the arrow was removed the wound began to bleed more profusely and Richard began to breath faster and more sporadically. He could feel it, he was going to go into shock if his body didn't stop losing blood so fast. Kahlan knew it too. "Hold on," she muttered, crushing some of the roots and herbs she always carried with her. "Just hold on, I'm almost there."

He flung his head back on the bed and grunted. "Holding," he gritted out, trying to lessen the serious atmosphere. It didn't work. The word held too much obvious pain for that. He jerked again when Kahlan began to apply her poultice to the wound in his side. And he was very grateful when it was over and she was bandaging the wound and letting the captain's wife help her lift Richard to bandage around his entire middle.

When all had been done, Richard slumped bonelessly into the bed and tried to regulate his breathing. When he felt moderately prepared, he shifted his gaze to the captain. "You said you could take care of the D'Haran soldiers," he said. "How?"

Saysha looked at the young man in confusion. "What is he talking about?"

Arlo gripped her shoulder. "Saysha, this is not Carver Dunn, as we thought," he said. "This is Richard Cypher. The Seeker."

The woman gasped and a hand fluttered to her mouth. The Seeker? The man all D'Haran soldiers were out to capture and deliver to Darken Rahl? The man D'Harans grew up hearing terrible stories about, as if he was a monster who would steal children in the night and use them in magical rituals of death and disease? That Seeker?

"I don't understand," she whispered. "Why would you bring _him_ here? He'll kill us all and … and …"

Kahlan stood swiftly, her hands itching to grab a dagger in case of danger, but just managing to hold back. "Richard would do no such thing!" She exclaimed. "He _saved_ this village from a Whisperer and he _spared_ your husband's life after besting him in a fight."

She felt a tug on her dress and her eyes followed it to Richard. He shook his head. "Kahlan, easy," he said. "She doesn't know me. She has every right to fear me." He looked up and met the woman's eyes. "I won't hurt anyone, I swear it on my mother's memory," he said. "I know you've probably heard terrible things about me. I've heard equally as terrible things about D'Harans. But I judge _individuals_ not groups of people as a whole."

"I … I thanked you for being at my husband's back," she said. "But … you were just a spy!"

Richard wanted to speak more, to try and alleviate this woman's fear of him, but just as he mustered up the strength to say something a sharp pain stole his breath away and he curled in on himself as it persisted.

Kahlan forgot the woman and her fear and dropped to her knees at Richard's side. "Uncurl," she ordered gently. "Richard, you're making it worse. Let _go_."

He lessened his grip, but didn't let go entirely, unable to help his body's natural reaction to the pain. In the background, Arlo was trying to calm his terrified wife and reason with her. It was weird since he _should_ be more alarmed than he was in the presence of the Seeker and a Confessor. But there was _something_ about Richard that just screamed – honest and true.

"Mom?"

Richard stopped his pained struggle. Kahlan slumped to the ground at the bedside in surprise. Arlo and Saysha's heads snapped to the side. Standing at the foot of the stairs, with a carved wooden whistle in hand, was the D'Harans' son, Byron.

"He won't hurt us," the boy continued. "He's not evil. He … he helped me not be afraid. I … I like him, Mom. I don't care who he really is, he was nice to me and he helped me. He didn't have to do that, did he?"

For a moment, the adults said nothing, contemplating Byron's words. They were true. Richard had chosen to help the D'Haran boy. He had had no real reason to, it hadn't advanced his cover much but it had just been the right thing to do.

And the boy obviously treasured the small, rough whistle.

"He's right, dear one," Arlo said. "You know it. I know it. It's just hard to accept it."

The man turned toward the bed and made to address Richard – only to find the younger man wasn't awake. "Uhm, is he?"

Kahlan whirled, if you could call spinning on the floor whirling, to check Richard's condition. After a few fevered hand presses here and there she relaxed slightly. "He appears to simply be sleeping," the woman said. Looking up, she stood slowly and brushing down the folds of her traveling dress. "Forgive my rudeness, ma'am, but I don't believe I introduced myself. I'm Kahlan Amnell of Thandor."

Saysha looked to Arlo before stepping forward and grasping the other woman's arm in greeting. "Saysha Ensor. And these are our children …" she gestured toward the youngsters who had ventured forth from the staircase. "Byron, Aneeta, Cicily and Harder."

They might have continued their conversation if a knock hadn't sounded on the doorway in the front of the house. The Ensor's frowned and Arlo ushered Kahlan into the nearby closet. "We don't know who it is, but I doubt it's soldiers," he said to her. "Richard will be fine, if they notice him I'll say he's a relation sleeping off his travels." Just in case, however, he handed her the daggers she had retrieved before coming to the house. "If you hear trouble, though, feel free to come to my rescue, Confessor Kahlan."

She smiled lightly. "I would not hesitate Captain Arlo."

And with that, he clapped the door shut and went to greet whatever fate had come to their doorstep.

* * *

><p><em>In the front of the house …<em>

Arlo gestured for Saysha and the kids to act natural. Saysha took up a position at the fireplace and set about putting on supper. After all, they _would _need to eat. The kids retired to the nearby second hearth and began a quiet game amongst themselves.

The captain opened the door to reveal one of his neighbors, supporting a D'Haran soldier from the earlier battle. "Arlo, I'm so glad I found you here, this man is wounded. I can't get him to the garrison on my own, but I thought you could help."

Normally, the D'Haran commander would have already been taking the man from his neighbor's shoulder, but he was momentarily frozen in indecision. He only had one extra bed it was currently occupied by the Seeker. And this D'Haran soldier was conscious and knew what Richard looked like – and who he was.

"My cousin has just arrived and is currently occupying my only extra bed," he said. "But if you could put him up at your home for tonight until we can arrange transport back to the garrison, I'll be sure to have your paid handsomely for your troubles."

The neighbor's eyes lit up with the idea of a reward for nothing more than feeding and sheltering a man. "I'd be glad to aid the D'Haran cause," the man said, shifting the soldier's weight. "But I'm not capable of treating this wound. Perhaps you could come with me to deal with it?"

Knowing to do otherwise would alert the neighbor – and the soldier with him – to something unusual, the captain nodded and grabbed the recently used medical supplies from the shelf in the kitchen and gestured for the man to lead the way.

He glanced briefly at his wife on the way out, uncertain of leaving her and the children alone with the Seeker and a Confessor, but not having a choice. He could only hope that they had been honest with him. And quickly frankly, he wasn't really as worried as he imagined he would be. They had proven they were true to their word thus far.

Closing the door behind him, he followed his neighbor down the street.

* * *

><p>TBC, hopefully I'll even get some feedback this time!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Saysha trembled lightly in her house shoes. With Arlo gone, she was alone with a Confessor and the Seeker. Granted, the young man was injured and probably not that big of a threat, but she had heard stories about Confessors too – and they terrified her just as much.

The closet door creaked in the backroom and the D'Haran woman gathered her wits about her and turned from the hearth and the bubbling stew to the rear of the house. With more courage than she thought possible, she reentered the small antechamber and set eyes on a touching sight.

Kahlan was leaning her head on Richard's shoulder as the man slept, speaking quietly to him. While Saysha didn't know what the woman was saying, by the set of her shoulders and the tone of her voice, it must be something deeply personal.

When the Confessor straightened, she seemed surprised to see Saysha in the room. "I … didn't hear your return," she said, again trying to straighten her crinkled and dirtied traveling dress. "I heard what happened. I'm sure the captain will return shortly. You've nothing to fear in his absence, I swear it."

The words did lessen Saysha's worry. While she had heard the horrors of Confessors, she had also heard that they were honest and could detect honesty in others. So at least this woman should be true to her word.

"How is he?" She asked, deciding it best to change the subject.

Kahlan took the out and turned to lay a hand on her friend. "He's still sleeping. The interruption didn't rouse him, which for Richard is unusual. I fear his fate if he should develop a fever. I'll sit with him, you can go about tending your family and not worry about tending to us. We don't want to be a bother."

Saysha studied the woman in front of her and this time didn't try to hide the fact she was doing so. Like her husband, she couldn't fathom why the Seeker and the Confessor, sworn enemies of Lord Rahl and D'Hara, were being so _nice_.

The other rebels who had attacked Grayson had not been nice – nor had they hesitated to destroy lives and homes in their assault on the village. Even the children had not escaped unscathed, if Byron's terrors were anything to go by.

If the men acted in such a fashion, why did their leader not?

"I don't understand you two," she finally said, moving into the room and sitting in a chair across the floor from Kahlan and Richard. "I grew up on tales of Confessors turning whole towns into their slaves and ordering them to slaughter each other while they sat and watched. I sat by the fireside as others told of the Seeker – who would appear in the Midlands and wreak havoc on the lands in his quest to kill Darken Rahl. Stories like these are usually based in fact, if not fact themselves. Why are you two so different?"

Kahlan frowned. "The stories are, in a fashion, partly true," she said. Settling down, she launched into true tales of Confessors who sought to do good but who let their power get out of control. Of Seekers who couldn't master the magic of the Sword of Truth and were lost to the rage it amplified. As she wound to a close, she noticed she had a full audience – the children and Arlo, who must have returned in the midst of the tales. "Richard is the first true Seeker in a thousand years," she explained. "Others have been named, but weren't born to it. He's … different, I guess. He can wield the Sword of Truth and avoid it overwhelming him."

She took a moment to smile fondly at the sleeping man. "It was a struggle at first, but he did it." Looking up, she continued. "As for me, I'm wholeheartedly in Richard's service. What I do reflects on him and I could never do something he would despise me for, like using my Confessor's powers to slaughter villages. Like Richard said, I try to judge people on who they are as individuals and not on stories or who they serve. I hope you are willing to do the same for us."

Saysha was silent as she let the stories and the Confessor's honesty wash over her. Despite her earlier misgivings, she found herself nodding. "I will," she said. "A man who would help my son can't be what the stories say."

"Glad to hear."

Kahlan jerked in surprise at Richard's voice. She shifted on her knees to face him, her blue eyes meeting his deep brown ones. "Richard, how long have you been awake?" She asked in a light, almost teasing, voice.

"Long enough to hear a tale or two," he said quietly. "I had never heard those stories."

Arlo stepped fully into the room. "We are all learning things today, it seems," he said, looking down at Richard in the small bed. "But to business for a moment." He decided to speak more to Kahlan than Richard, who was still groggy. "I have billeted the wounded D'Haran at my neighbor's home. It appears there is no suspicion of anything out of sort, but you can never tell. The sooner the Seeker heals and you flee, the better."

"We will leave tomorrow, so long as Richard doesn't turn for the worse overnight," Kahlan said firmly. "We really don't want to bring you any further trouble at our expense."

Richard nodded his agreement, but didn't speak just yet.

When the room fell into an awkward silence, Saysha decided to break it with the announcement that dinner was likely ready and they should probably partake in it. To Kahlan's displeasure, Richard insisted on leaving his sick bed and joining the others. They argued heatedly for a few moments, drawing small smiles of amusement from Arlo and Saysha, before Richard apparently won and Kahlan helped him to his feet.

He groaned and grumbled his way to the table and only quieted when he was seated, albeit stiffly, in one of the wide, high-backed chairs. Leaning back, he relaxed his torso muscles as best he could and waited for the stew to be served. Kahlan helped Saysha shuffle the stew, the bread and the water jugs to the table. It was meager, she realized, as she took the too-light platters to the table set for eight.

Richard apparently knew of the family's hardships, since he declined a large portion of stew and altogether passed on the bread. Of course, that could be his wound deciding for him too. Kahlan feigned being used to light fare and also took a small portion of the meal, smiling as the children ripped with gusto into their food.

Arlo was more picking at his food than eating it, and Richard noticed and decided to call him on it. "Is something troubling you?" He said, resting his head against the back of his chair. He was bone weary and couldn't help slumping.

Putting his spoon down, the D'Haran captain nodded. "How could I not be troubled?" He said. "Nearly all I believed before today has been thoroughly shaken. Those I counted enemies have saved my family and those I had called acquaintances and companions ran screaming from the field and left my home to death. Now I wonder what I shall do."

Saysha rested a comforting hand on her husband's arm but had no words of wisdom to offer. Nor, it seemed, did Kahlan and Richard. It was finally Byron who spoke up. "Can't you leave the army, Dah?"

The youth gulped as all eyes turned to him.

"I wish it were that easy, son," the man said with a sigh. "But desertion is serious business for a D'Haran. More than likely I'll have to return to the garrison as if nothing had changed." He looked over to Richard and Kahlan – "and if faced by the Seeker and the Confessor again in battle treat them as enemies just as I would have last week, before getting to know them and what they stand for better."

Byron looked over at Richard in alarm. "But Dah, you … he's our friend," the boy said, wringing his hands in the cloth napkin on his lap, looking ready to burst into tears at the idea his father would fight his newfound friend.

Arlo was torn. On one hand, he knew his duty and while he had suspended it to aid the young man who he owed a great debt, could he suspend it indefinitely? Could he really abandon the army of D'Hara? After the years he had spent serving Lord Rahl, first training himself and then taking on the training of others? After rising up the ranks to command his own garrison?

Could he throw that all away?

He didn't think he could.

"I'm sorry son, you're young, things seem simple to you, but in reality they are very complex," he said after a few moments of silence. "Don't concern yourself with the details, just finish up your supper."

Richard was biting his lip. Kahlan knew he wanted to speak. Knew he wanted to save this family from Darken Rahl's tyranny - to draw them to his side, or at least, away from Rahl's. She tried to meet his eyes and warn him not to overstep his bounds, but Richard, being Richard, soon spoke up.

"Why not?"

Arlo looked to him incredulously. "Excuse me? Why not what?"

Richard pulled his head forward, momentarily taken aback by how hard it was. He quickly quashed the disorientation and continued. "Why not leave the army behind? You see what your soldiers do in the face of their own death when pitted against the death of your civilians. Do you want to stay and continue to give your all to men like them?"

"Not all D'Haran soldiers are like Sgt. Grig and his posse," Arlo countered. "There are good men in the ranks." He leaned away from the table. "You are biased in this matter. With good reason, but biased nonetheless."

Richard stifled a grimace at the pain in his side and plowed on. "Of course I am. But can you concede the point that it was your enemy, not your 'good men', that helped you save Grayson? And you don't have to join my side to leave Rahl's?"

The women and children watched the conversation between D'Haran captain and Seeker. Richard, smaller in stature and injured, held his own against Arlo, who was a formidable man even in his lesser moments. Back and forth they argued, each conceding parts of the argument and at other times, hotly debating something.

"Not all of the Resistance would treat your family like outcasts," Richard said, twirling a spoon on the table. "My sister wouldn't, for instance. I'd bet she and the family she lives with would welcome even you and yours with open arms. Because _I _trust you, as does Kahlan. And that's enough for them."

Arlo shook his head slowly. "I've never known anyone to accept former enemies on faith."

"How many people do you know who aren't D'Haran soldiers?"

"What does that matter?"

"They're trained to think the Resistance – and me – are evil and no one but Rahl is worth their allegiance. Of course they wouldn't trust anyone but themselves and him. Just like you are finding it hard to trust us, even with all the evidence put in front of you …"

He cut himself off suddenly, frowning and blinking in confusion. Kahlan turned to her companion and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Richard?"

"I …" he frowned again, unconsciously dropping a hand to his side. "I don't feel … I don't feel so good all of a sudden." Kahlan looked more closely at the Seeker. He was pale, paler than was usually considered healthy, and he was sweating at the hairline.

Jumping to her feet, Kahlan rested a hand on his forehead and frowned. "You're burning up, Richard, why didn't you say something earlier?"

The Seeker swallowed heavily. "I was … preoccupied."

"Damn it, Richard," she muttered, knowing by "preoccupied" he meant he had been trying to win over or turn Arlo Ensor to his side. He obviously took that more seriously than he condition, which was now costing him.

"Kahlan, help me up, please."

Arlo stood too, a look of dark concern on his face. The Confessor wasn't sure, but she thought maybe he had figured out what had been preoccupying Richard as well and maybe felt a little guilty about it. "I'll get his other side," the D'Haran said to Kahlan.

Together the hauled him gently to his feet and steered him from the main living area to the back room. They had just crossed the threshold when Richard wrenched himself from their grip and beelined for the small bucket that had carried the cleaning water. He knocked it over, wetting the ground, and proceeded to expel the contents of his stomach.

The action brought on agonizing pain, but he held in any noise and when he was done, he leaned his head against the side of the bed he had fallen next to with a heavy groan. "Ouch," he muttered and Kahlan came to her knees beside him.

When she gasped, he looked up to see why – only to find her eyes riveted to the bucket in front of his right knee.

It wasn't just food that Richard had expelled.

There was blood too.

He knew that couldn't be good. Arlo had approached from behind and seen the bucket's contents too. "The wound is worse than we thought," he said gently, squatting beside the Seeker and Confessor. "Blood could mean the arrow injured your stomach. That's not something we can fix or bandage."

Richard met his gaze steadily. "I think I'm going to lie down, if that's all right," he finally said, unsure what _else_ he could. Kahlan was teary eyed as she thought of the implications of Arlo's words and the severity of Richard's wound.

She could still lose him.

And as if fate wasn't to wound her more, when Richard had made it to the bed, his eyes rolled back into his head and he started jerking in a frighteningly rhythmic fashion. Kahlan called out to him, shook him and tried vainly to snap him out of it. When that all failed, she tugged him onto his side so he wouldn't choke on his tongue or something.

Arlo stood back, frozen in shock.

He'd seen this before. This kind of a fit. It usually heralded death.

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><p>I've decided to take this a bit further into the AU realm than I already have with the next part. Please review, I really would like some feedback and suggestions on what you'd like to see!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to those who took the time to review. I really appreciate the feedback and am glad there are a least a couple of you enjoying the story enough to tell me so! I'm not sure where I am going with this fic, I'm writing as I go and have no real plan. There are a few roads I can take that I'm contemplating. Oh and FYI this is unbetaed, so I apologize in advance for mistakes. Anyway, on with chapter three and another twist of AU.

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

Kahlan let out a breath of relief when Richard stopped shaking. She quickly took stock of his condition, beginning with the arrow entry point, immediately discovering that the wound had begun bleeding again. He was also completely unconscious now.

Or was he?

"Kahlan, is he breathing?"

Arlo's voice was at a low, somber whisper. He sounded afraid to hear the answer. Kahlan, who hadn't even contemplated that Richard might _not_ be breathing, immediately reached forward and placed a hand under his nose.

She felt nothing.

"Richard!" she exclaimed, fumbling for the point on his neck that would tell her if his heart was still beating, despite his apparent lack of breathing. And her own heart stopped in her chest when she couldn't find a pulse point.

"No! No, you can't _do_ this, Richard. You can't. Wake up! Right now!" She took to shaking him again, not knowing what else to do. Tears were streaming down her face as she frantically wracked her brain for something – anything – else she could do.

Arlo, apparently, _had_ other ideas. "You need to breath for him," the soldier said, kneeling beside the Confessor while his wife herded the children out of sight of the young man and his would-be saviors. "I've seen this done before by our healers. It might work for him."

He watched as Kahlan tilted Richard's head and breathed for him. Then he pressed on the Seeker's chest in an attempt to get the young man's heart going on its own again. For long moments, they continued, neither aware of their surroundings, entirely focused on trying to revive Richard.

It wasn't until Saysha softly said her husband's name that they hesitated.

Kahlan looked at Richard's slack face. He still wasn't breathing, nor was his heart beating. She collapsed where she knelt, looking at her hands and then his face.

"It can't be," she whispered. "He can't be gone. Richard's … Richard. Something like a little arrow can't … _kill_ him. No, come on, we can't give up now."

But Arlo held her back. "Kahlan. It's been too long. I'm _so_ sorry."

She pulled away and turned toward the wall. "_No_…" The world was barely loud enough to hear. She went from tears simply falling to gut-wrenching sobs, unashamed of her audience.

Behind her, the D'Harans stared down at the still form of the Seeker. They too were shocked by the turn of events and not for the first time, Arlo wondered what it would be like to serve a man like Richard. Who seemed to have cared less for himself than a man who had tried to kill him. Now he'd never know…

Or would they?

As they mourned, unbeknownst to all of them, something was happening inside Richard.

Unseen to the naked eye, a soft golden glow had manifested and was traveling _through_ the Seeker's body, searching out the cause of his ailing physical self. It was coming from deep within him, a power that he had no knowledge of or control over. An instinctual force.

When it found what it had been searching for, the glow intensified until it could be seen _outside_ the body. It emanated off Richard like a halo of fire. It drew Arlo, Saysha and Kahlan's attentions and riveted three set of eyes to the young man.

"What in the name of the Creator?" Kahlan whispered, hope already blossoming in her chest. The glow was soft and gave off a feeling of rightness. Of warmth and love. It was magical. She felt drawn to it, but stopped herself just short of stepping to Richard and reaching out to touch him. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew enough to leave it alone and undisturbed.

After a moment, the light brightened and everyone was forced to look away. When they uncovered their eyes and turned back, it looked as if there was no change. But upon closer inspection, there was one glaring difference that became obvious.

_Richard's chest was moving!_

"I don't believe it!" Arlo exclaimed suddenly. "He's breathing!"

The three onlookers could have been knocked over by a feather when Richard groaned to prove Arlo's observation, and his eyes fluttered open, blinking against the lamplight next time him. He took in a shuddering breath and then turned to his audience.

"Course I'm breathing, why wouldn't I be," he deadpanned softly, though it was obvious he didn't realize the import of his words.

"Why?" Kahlan stepped closer.

"Why? She reached the bed, her tone rising in volume.

"_Why?_" Kahlan was all but shouting by the third "why" and was only a scant few inches from him now. "Because, Richard, you _died_. You weren't breathing. Your heart was stopped in your chest. I … you were _dead_."

The Seeker's eyes were comically wide. It took a moment for him to gather his wits enough to respond. "I … had no idea," he whispered. "I don't feel like I … died. But, uhm, I know you wouldn't make that up." He saw the tears in her eyes, the red and puffy eyes and swallowed. "I'm sorry, Kahlan. I'm sorry." He moved to sit up and was shocked how it didn't hurt nearly as bad as before. "I'm …feeling much better."

He put a hand on his side and pressed. "It's still painful, but it's nothing like earlier. It feels more like a sword slice on the mend now." he muttered, more to himself but audible to the others. Richard looked up. "What did you do?"

Kahlan sat on the bed beside the Seeker, partly to be close to him after thinking she'd lost him, and partly because the stress of the last few days was taking its toll on her and she was hardly able to stay on her feet.

"You're the grandson of a Wizard of the First Order _and_ the first true Seeker in a thousand years," she said slowly, pondering what had happened in a calm and rational manner. She'd freak out about it in private later, she promised herself. No use doing it in front of the others. Realizing she should continue, she said, "we don't know everything that you're capable of yet. Perhaps you possess some magic and combined with your Seeker abilities, maybe it saved you when nothing else could."

Arlo nodded. "I can see no other explanation. You_ were_ dead. We tried to revive you for many minutes and had no luck. Kahlan would have gone on much longer, but after that long a time with no heartbeat, most men are gone for good."

The room fell into silence once more. Richard, reeling from the shock of the news and still weak from his wounding, his overdoing it, his death and then his apparent resurrection, was the one who broke the moment when he couldn't stifle a gigantic yawn.

He shrugged sheepishly when the others turned to him with eyebrows raised.

"Sorry, dying takes a lot out of you," he said sarcastically.

Arlo and Richard shared a look. The former realized he had a lot to think about. He owed it to Richard to at least consider his arguments from dinner. After all, the man had been slowly dying as he made them and had still felt Arlo worth the effort to continue.

"I think we should all get some rest," he said. "I know I have much to think about. And I imagine the two of you would like some time to come to grips with all that's happened." Taking Saysha by the arm, he steered her from the room and closed the door gently behind him.

The two D'Harans ushered their children to bed and promised they could see Richard in the morning, offering them no explanation for what had transpired in the backroom in their absence. Once that task was accomplished, they retired to their own chamber and were soon lying side by side in their bed, both staring at the ceiling planks.

"Arlo? Are you all right?" Saysha whispered. "It's so _much_. I mean, the Seeker here in our home. And a Confessor? And not harming us in any way. Everything we know has been – disproved. They are nothing like the stories. And the Seeker is just so – ordinary."

At that Arlo had to chuckle. "Oh he's far from ordinary, dear," he said, turning on his side to face her. "You didn't see what happened when he and Kahlan fled the garrison this morning. They leapt onto two horses and she threw him the Sword of Truth. It glowed red like fire when he caught it. When I think on it now, I could almost _feel_ a power emanating from him right away."

He reached up and brushed hair from his eyes before continuing. "If that wasn't awe-inspiring enough, the sight of the Seeker and Sword of Truth, when he _blocked arrows_ with that sword as they rode out the gate definitely was."

"_Really_?" Saysha gasped. "Arrows? With a sword? The blade's not more than two inches in width. He must be amazing in battle." She didn't miss the grimace on her husband's face. "Arlo? Did you … fight him?"

Flopping over onto his back, the D'Haran captain sighed. "I did, Saysha. It's my duty. And I think he respected that, though he told me he didn't want to fight me." She gasped at that revelation but said nothing as he continued. "It took only a minute to disarm me. He didn't even appear to be trying that hard. Lord Rahl's been trained to fight all his life, but I think the Seeker could give him a run for his money with ease."

Saysha huffed. "He wouldn't give him a chance, dear," she said. "Lord Rahl would just have his men or his Mord'Sith deal with Richard until he was too beaten down to be a threat. I mean, he tried to kill him as a baby to avoid fighting him later in life."

The captain was silent. He of course knew the story of Brennidon. Who didn't? But he hadn't really ever _thought_ about it. How Darken Rahl had learned of the prophecy of the Seeker and ordered the first born sons of Brennidon struck down before the child could grow and become a threat.

What kind of man did that?

"By the Creator, Saysha, I don't know what to do," he finally said. "Like you said, everything we know has been shaken to the core. Only yesterday I was a loyal and steadfast servant of Darken Rahl. Now? I'm not so sure why I ever followed him. The things he's done. The things _I've _done in his name? Horrible things, Saysha. By rights, I don't deserve a second chance. The Seeker should have just killed me when he had the chance."

"Oh Arlo!"

Saysha threw her arms around the man she loved. "Don't say such things," she said harshly. "You do not deserve death. You were doing what a good soldier does, following orders. You had no other choice."

"I could have deserted, left the army," he said quietly. "Others have. Others have left, Saysha."

She shook her head. "Yes, but you also thought the Seeker was as much a tyrant as Lord Rahl. And that Confessors ran around confessing everyone to do their bidding. You had no idea the truth about Richard and Kahlan and what they fight for. Even the rebels in this valley kept those tales alive, with their brutal and ruthless attacks on the village. You had no reason to doubt your allegiances."

For a moment, the man said nothing. He was still holding his wife lightly, grateful for her levelheadedness and her love. "You're right," he said after a while. "No sense mourning the past. The question is what are we going to do now?"

Saysha put a hand to his lips. "That is a question better saved for tomorrow, after you've had time to rest and recuperate. Come now, close your eyes and go to sleep. No more worries for tonight."

In moments, the two were fast asleep.

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><p>Kahlan sat awkwardly on the bed by Richard's knees. Neither one could find the courage to start the conversation they knew they needed to have. Richard tugged ceaselessly at a thread on the edge of the blanket covering him, which Kahlan had risen just long enough to pull up from the foot of bed. The Confessor was flicking bits of grass and dirt from her clothing, but there weren't many left since she'd cleaned up a bit for supper.<p>

"Are you all right, Kahlan," Richard said suddenly, breaking the heavy silence. "I mean, this was all harder on you than anyone else." He watched her shift her gaze to him, her blue eyes no longer teary or red, but bright and clear.

With a sigh, she abandoned her flicking and twisted so one leg was resting on the bed and the other was hanging over, the foot planted on the ground. Leaning forward, she rested her elbow on her knee. "I don't know how I'm feeling, Richard," she said. "I saw you die. I did everything I could to bring you back and I failed. I don't know how I feel about that. I was _useless_."

"You're never useless," he countered vehemently, surprising her. "Do you think if our positions had been reversed I would have had any more luck than you and Captain Ensor? I doubt it."

She shook her head. "You might have. You saved yourself."

He frowned. "I don't think so," he said. "I mean, it was something _within _me that saved my life, but I didn't _do_ anything. I didn't call for it. Or cast it or whatever the term would be. It just _acted_ on my behalf. It's a little unsettling to know how little control I have over aspects of myself."

The Seeker met his Confessor's eyes. "Is this how it feels? With your Confessor powers? With the Con Dar? Having this unsettling feeling of uncertainty? Sometimes not knowing if you are totally in control, or just a pawn to whatever's inside you?"

Kahlan said nothing for a moment. Richard had hit on a sore point for her. Ever since she had entered the Con Dar for the first time, her faith in her control had been shaken. And he was right, she _wasn't_ sure she was in control. The Con Dar wasn't something she called on. It was instinctual and unpredictable.

It wasn't the only part of her power she wasn't sure of. It was sometimes unsettling when she was overwhelmed with feelings for the Seeker. Deep feelings of love that she knew she could never act on because she refused to chance turning him into a mindless drone. Uncertain of how far she could go with him. Feelings of fear that she would lose him during a fight, sometimes to strong they nearly bowled her over.

But could she explain that to Richard? The object of her affections?

Not yet. So she decided to only reveal the one "safe" uncertainty.

"Sometimes I feel a little bit overwhelmed," she said. "I know how powerful a Confessor who can go into the Con Dar is. I only know of it through stories, really. I have no idea how to control it or when it will come on. And since my mother died when I was young, I never got the chance to learn from her. The Sisters of Light taught me what they could, but they didn't know everything. I fear daily that there are parts of me as yet unknown and I don't know when they might show or if I can wield them."

"So it's kind of the same feeling, then," Richard surmised.

"Uncertainty is the worst part of it," she agreed. Gathering up courage, she slipped the hand that wasn't propping up her chin into Richard's – halting it in its mauling of the bedding. "But Richard, you don't have to _fear_ your inate magic. And when Zedd rejoins us, he can try to ascertain what it might be that saved you and if you can _consciously_ use the magic. Darken Rahl has magic, so this is a welcome addition to your arsenal."

Richard tightened his hand on hers and pulled until Kahlan had no choice but to follow his tugging and lay beside him on the covers. The layer of fabric did little to _really_ separate them and she felt a tingling of longing jolt through her. She squashed it down.

"But Kahlan, I _do_ fear this new _magic_," Richard said. "I don't know what it can _do_. What if it comes out when I'm fighting? What if I hurt someone without meaning to because I can't control it?" He paused, looking over at his friend. "How do you not panic when you fight? Always wondering what might trigger the Con Dar?"

She shook her head. "I barely manage it sometimes. If I see you battling more than one foe, I sometimes feel like I'm going to burst if I can't get to you. And I think I almost went into the Con Dar when Garrick's brother shot you. But I think, Richard, that both of us can take courage from one another in this. We can both face our newfound abilities together."

"Together," Richard whispered. "I like the sound of that."

He readjusted his grip on her hand and his eyes slipped closed. "Richard?" Kahlan said, uncertain as to his intentions. When he didn't answer, she realized he had fallen asleep. And his grasp of her hand had not lessened.

Not that she wanted it to. She took advantage of the situation and chose to remain where she was. With a small sigh, she shifted into a more comfortable position, her back to Richard's front and his arm slung over her side to keep their hands together. He didn't stir when her maneuvering and soon, she too was slumbering.

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><p>TBC...I'm not much of a "romance" writer, so any RichardKahlan is a new thing for me...


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